


listen before I go

by mvltiverse



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Awkward Park Jisung (NCT), Coma, Depression, Drowning, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Even I do, Everyone Loves Park Jisung, Family Feels, Fear, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Huang Ren Jun is Whipped, Hurt Park Jisung, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insecurity, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jisung Angst, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is Whipped, Lee Jeno is Whipped, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Multi, NCT Dream Ensemble-centric, NCT Ensemble - Freeform, Na Jaemin is Whipped, OT21 (NCT), Park Jisung (NCT) Needs a Hug, Park Jisung (NCT)-centric, Physical Abuse, Please don’t kill me, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Hyungs, Recovery, Sad Park Jisung, Self Sacrifice, Self-Harm, Seriously Guys I’m So Sorry, Shy Park Jisung (NCT), Song fic, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Team as Family, WayV Ensemble - Freeform, Zhong Chenle is whipped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvltiverse/pseuds/mvltiverse
Summary: Jisung wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It was a horrible, sinking feeling. It would always be there, lurking and waiting to attack him with poison at any given moment.It left him feeling suffocated, his whole sanity being suspended in mid-air, finding no ways to escape and just barely floating past, desperately wishing for something akin to paradise, where he would be safe. Where he would be free.If freedom meant being dead, well—So be it.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten & Park Jisung, Huang Ren Jun & Park Jisung, Huang Ren Jun/Park Jisung, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Park Jisung, Lee Jeno/Park Jisung, Lee Taeyong & Park Jisung, Mark Lee/Park Jisung, Na Jaemin & Park Jisung, Na Jaemin/Park Jisung, Park Jisung & Zhong Chen Le, Park Jisung (NCT) & Everyone, Park Jisung (NCT)/Everyone, Zhong Chenle/Park Jisung
Comments: 152
Kudos: 521





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, this is my first NCT fic and I love whump so this is basically angst. This is kind of a self-indulgent fic because I wanted to read sad Jisung fics.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING! This story contains potentially trigger content with explicit descriptions of abuse, self-harm, suicidal ideation, and suicide attempt so if you feel uncomfortable with these, I urge you not to read. Please pay attention to the tags for warning and if you start to feel upset, stop reading for the sake of your own health. 
> 
> This is purely a work of fiction and in no way reflect how I feel about Jisung (he is MY baby I would die for him). Title taken from “listen before I go” by Billie Eilish.
> 
> Anyways, other than that. I hope you enjoy reading!

Jisung would do anything for NCT. _Anything._ His members, his _hyungs_ , the family he’s been with throughout years of training and debut. Even when he wasn’t physically capable of doing it, he would risk himself— his own life so that they’d be out of harm’s way. 

Fuck the consequences. 

He would stay up late, practicing. Run through his lines excessively so that his voice won’t betray him. He gave away rest, gave away his childhood, gave away the experience to live a teenager’s life as one should normally do. 

He gave anything and everything if it meant that his brothers would never be faced with the truth. He stayed up late for them, with the fear of his hyungs being hurt, stay up late with the nightmares that plagued him. So that nobody else has to undergo what he has to, to keep them safe from the pain he’s decided to shoulder all on himself. 

And he was happy to do it. 

But he’s so tired. 

Jisung had sacrificed his soul, his spirit, the light that once shone of joy and motivation in performing, but why is it still _not enough_? 

Why is it still not enough for his manager to spare him a little sympathy and let him go? That no matter how much he puts his effort and whole life into being a part of NCT, he would always, irrevocably and irrefutably feel like he doesn’t belong? 

It’s debilitating, how one moment _person_ in Jisung’s life can change his whole future drastically. He used to think about this _feeling._ It wasn’t something he was born with, he simply knew. It wasn’t natural or normal, it made him question himself, go through existential crises, increasing his insecurities to a high level. 

Jisung wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It was a horrible, sinking feeling. It would always be there, lurking and waiting to attack him with poison at any given moment. 

This feeling was born when NCT’s new manager was introduced. The moment he was forced to grow up far too fast and open his eyes to the dark reality. The day he sacrificed his false sense of normalcy and youth to protect the others.

It left him feeling suffocated, his whole sanity being suspended in mid-air, finding no ways to escape and just barely floating past, desperately wishing for something akin to paradise, where he would be safe. Where he would be _free_. 

And if freedom meant being dead, well— 

So be it. 

_Take me to the rooftop_

_I wanna see the world when I stop breathing, turning blue_

Winter had been harsh that month.

His hyungs were treating him fine, but the weather was not. It was jarring, in all honesty. He wasn’t adapted to the freezing cold, despite living in Seoul his whole life. It highlighted his aversion to the bitter feeling of loneliness during this season. 

It left him feeling forever isolated, like he was out of place. As if he was never supposed to be there from the beginning. He only had himself, the snow, and the ghost of his thoughts for company.   
  


It was also winter the day NCT met their new manager. 

The man, who introduced himself as Joonhyuk, was tall and good-looking, who seemed to be friendly enough but Jisung easily spotted something odd about him. The warning bells in his mind rang when their new manager smiled at him. It was fake, there was something so dangerous that was emitting from his aura that it intimidated the maknae. 

It raised his hackles, left him feeling uneasy. Nevertheless, the trust with the other members grew, and Jisung being Jisung stayed silent about his grievances. 

It was obvious to Jisung that the man didn’t like him, and at the most, tolerated him. The contrast between how Joonhyuk treats his other members compared to him was so apparent it was shocking how no one ever mentioned it. 

Generally, it started with subtle things, uninterested gestures that the Dreamies have never seen and passive-aggressive comments that made him uncomfortable yet undeterred. Jisung was used to it, being the brunt of their managers’ anger tend to leave him adapted to their strict ways. It was also the reason why Jisung became foolish enough to believe nothing else would happen to him, despite the discouraging insults Joonhyuk has shoved in his face while the others weren’t in hearing space beforehand. 

Then a binder was thrown right in his face. 

It was a cold day when his manager’s true colors finally appeared. Jisung remembered his body freezing up in surprise and fear, the thick object hitting his face mercilessly, grazing his forehead with the metallic ring of the folder. 

He remembered his body throbbing from fatigue as his manager more or less demanded him to stay behind and practice over and over again mercilessly. Due to the overwhelming exhaustion and anxiety he’s been feeling, he miscalculated his part and accidentally missed a vital step in NCT’s Black on Black routine. 

There was no time for him to react when the binder his manager was holding flew and smacked him across the face, “You stupid child! Don’t you know how to get anything right?!” 

Jisung was too stunned to respond, his mouth agape. There was no denying it, the gratification in his manager’s eyes were as clear as day. It was unmistakable and terrifying, to see how the man even looks _pleased_ to finally throw him off-guard and hurt him, like a predator who caught his prey unaware. 

“You will never tell anyone about this, you hear me?” Joonhyuk’s eyes gleamed menacingly, daring the teen to try and disobey. Jisung could do nothing but nod, hands trembling behind his back, his shock preventing the pain from processing, “Are you fucking mute?” He raised his fist, the rings on his fingers glinting ominously and Jisung closed his eyes instinctively, choking out a sob as he mumbled without a hitch, “No, manager hyung, I understand. I won’t tell anyone about what happened.” 

Joonhyuk inspected him with vigilant eyes, before letting out a huff, “You better. Fix yourself up, and start from the beginning. You will not stop until you’re allowed to.”

He had no plans of going against the man who just showed that he wouldn’t hesitate in hitting Jisung if he could, so he danced. He danced flawlessly and until he felt like dying. Over and over and over again as his manager’s words rang in his ears like a broken tape. He practiced until the spark inside of him quivered in and out of weariness. Jisung didn’t stop until Joonhyuk finally let him go past 11 in the evening. Fully exhausted to the bone, he slumped on the wall and napped until a janitor found him thirty minutes later, waking him up with a soft pat on his cheek as he was all but asked to go back to his dorm. 

When Jisung made it back, everyone was asleep. He trudged on quietly, strolling towards his and Jaemin’s shared room, breathing softly to avoid waking his sleeping hyung up. 

He ignored his heart beating quickly as he carelessly took off the hoodie from his body, too physically and mentally drained to make an effort in changing his clothes. He climbed the bunk’s ladder gracelessly, muffling a whimper at the intense pain radiating from his back when he laid down. Regardless of the sweat mangling with his tears, and the soreness that came from every part of his body, he fell asleep. 

If you counted nightmares as sleep. 

_Tell me love is endless, don’t be so pretentious_

_Leave me like you do_

Whilst the so-called _practice sessions_ didn’t escalate quickly, it didn’t get better either. As a matter of fact, it only became worse from there on. Even though Jisung was smart enough to anticipate that it won’t stop, he never thought of how _bad_ his situation would become within a short period of time. Being yelled at and being thrown objects turned into punches, kicks, and sometimes being choked until Jisung couldn’t breathe anymore. 

In spite of that, he survived. He’d made it throughout every single one-on-one session alive. Despite the fact that he came out of it with more bruises than he could ever count, the light in his eyes slowly dimmed until it became dull, his once genuine and charming laughs turning false, and wishing for _actual_ death, different than just the playful jabs he’d use to make with Chenle when they were hanging out. 

He made it. But it kept coming back for him. It was especially loud and grating when he was alone, on those dark nights where everyone was busy, or some of them would be tasked to do a VLive or Huya Live while he would stay in one of SM’s practice room to dance or at their dorm all by himself. With Wayv’s debut and preparation for SuperM, he became unhappier, leaving him feeling lonelier than ever. 

He stayed like this in the in-between, floating without moving. Feeling so much but nothing at all at the same time. It was an exhausting way to live. 

He was also vulnerable on those nights, yet fortunate enough that nobody ever saw him experience panic attacks, breaking down as everything he’d piled up inside would come crashing down. Thinking about how no one notices when he’s sad and goes into dark places because he’s an introvert, how it’s harder to carry on with each passing day. 

Jisung is just so, so tired. And scared. He’d already lost so much in the process of wanting to be one of the best performers so that he wouldn’t bring down NCT, he couldn’t lose his hyungs too. Especially when he was losing himself, his real self slowly being torn into shreds as he’s forced to act his part as an idol over and over. 

The… _PTSD_ was a new one. Alongside the anxiety and depression, well, he’s tried so hard to be patient with himself. While he knew most teens his age are diagnosed with either depression or anxiety (hell, he even knew some from Dancing High who were going through some issues as well), he never expected it to happen to _him._

But he stayed strong. He did what he had to do. His brain’s logical thought process went out the window a long time ago. Everything was alright if it meant Joonhyuk would never move onto another member and reenact the same assaults he does to the youngest. 

Even if it killed him, even if he was secluding himself in the course of protecting them. He would never, ever allow one of his members to go through what he’s experienced, to be traumatized to the point of losing themselves just like he already did. Jisung considered himself lucky, he had a high pain tolerance as it is and he thinks he _deserves_ it. Everything Joonhyuk and all those netizens have said were buried in his head and it made sense for him— he is collateral and could be replaced easily if SM wanted to.

Jisung is just an extra, a pawn. 

He would never amount to anything else.

(At least, that’s what Joonhyuk told him repeatedly, and how it is the reason why he created these specific ‘training sessions’ with Jisung to _help_ him.)

If that was the case, then it was alright. Jisung would improve, he would become better so that the fear of being kicked out of NCT festering inside him would dissipate and he would be proud of himself that he’s actually achieved something in his life. And maybe everything will never get better, just like he hoped for. 

It was better. 

_If you need me, wanna see me_

_Better hurry ‘cause I’m leaving soon_

Jisung went to practice. 

He did his chores diligently. Sang his lines without his voice cracking or going off-key. Memorized all of his steps for their performances, kept his head down whenever Joonhyuk was around. 

He did everything he was supposed to. 

His life became monotonous, Jisung feeling like he became a lost spirit seeking for happiness and purpose. His movements became robotic almost, and as much as he tried to act the same with his hyungs, they _knew_ something has changed, not only with how he distances himself away from them (which he could reason out that he’s going through puberty, that he no longer needed to be looked after _which is a lie_. Ultimately, since Mark graduated, they were all growing, and the ‘00 liners were leisurely experiencing adult life. Chenle and Jisung aka the younger ones, were guaranteed to grow likewise). 

No. Jisung was silly to think that they would never notice how he’s changed, how he’s stopped eating. Not because of any particular reason. Definitely _not_ because of Joonhyuk’s off-handed comments on his physical appearance, he knew he wasn’t fat. Just the thought of having to puke everything back out after their sessions where he would be relentlessly punched was enough for his stomach to churn. 

So he started skipping lunch and dinner in hopes that he would feel better, making up excuses that he was either called to practice (should it be considered a lie when half the time he uses that it’s true anyways?), that he wasn’t feeling hungry, or that he’d already eaten (which is also a lie). Breakfast was the only time of day he won’t excuse himself from, firstly because Joonhyuk has never joined them in the mornings, but most importantly because Jaemin would be up early to cook food. His guilt of refusing the older and seeing him disappointed was possibly the only thing that outweighed his distaste of eating. 

But no one had to know that every moment after breakfast, he would sit on the floor on the bathroom, cold tiles pressing uncomfortably in his butt as he curled into a ball. And he would count his fingers, just to check if he was awake, that he would escape the impending doom of seeing his manager if he woke up. 

To see that maybe on the off chance… it was all just a nightmare and he would wake, confused but happy that it was all just a long and horrible dream. 

_But he didn’t wake up. There was nothing to wake up to. This_ is _his reality, and nothing could and would ever be able to change that._

No one had to know. 

_Sorry can’t save me now_

  
  


Jisung never wanted this. 

He never wanted to feel so confined. He’s so close yet so, so far to reaching freedom and fully be with his hyungs, as if his hand is clasping it before he’s dragged down by lingering voices and touches that leaves him begging for mercy. 

Nothing had changed, but at the same time, it felt like everything did. He still had his members, still had his fans. 

But he’d never felt more depressed. He knew it was all in his head, he was aware of that, he wasn’t an idiot. But acknowledging it was different than actually making it go away. He knew he should be grateful that he actually had people who would listen to him, but thinking it was easier than doing it. He felt so damaged that even on his best days, even when he was being held in Jaemin’s arms, or smiling and laughing, his cheeks being squeezed playfully by the other members, he still wanted to die. 

He didn’t know how to fix himself. He just felt so broken. He didn’t know how to fix something that would never be fixed. 

It was always just easier to shut everything out, become numb and play his part. He knew it wasn’t healthy, his coping mechanism ignoring the whispering in the back of his mind as he slowly withdrew himself from the others. 

So he shouldn’t have been surprised when someone pointed it out. 

The confrontation, surprisingly coming from Renjun, goes as well as he expected. 

The observant teen had noticed when Jisung changed, from withdrawing himself from the others, to when he started to disappear during lunch and dinner. However, he didn’t want to frighten the younger, who looked like he’s been going through a lot. It still worried him though. How the maknae he considers one of the most precious people in his life to become distant, and sure, he was still similar in the way he acts, but there were times he won’t even bother to join them in their antics, denying their invitations with the excuse that he has to practice. Like he was extracting himself from NCT, from them. Not only was Renjun scared, it made the rest of the Dreamies confused and terrified of what’s happening to their dearest maknae. 

Jisung, meanwhile, wasn’t stupid. He had, at some point, paused and contemplated deeply about telling his hyungs, someone, somebody about Joonhyuk. Even though he wasn’t ready to open up about himself, at the very least, someone will listen to him and not treat him like he was a child. But what was the point of talking, when the constant apprehension and dread in Joonhyuk accidentally hearing him, which in turn might potentially ruin his career and affect his members, was always there? 

That doesn’t mean Renjun didn’t attempt to probe him, however. 

It was a Saturday afternoon. Haechan was with Mark, Jeno and Jaemin had a short schedule to attend to, and Chenle was at his own home. Ever since he decided to leave their dorm and live at the house his parents bought for him, Jisung felt increasingly abandoned without the only member he considered his best friend. He would never blame Chenle for leaving though, if Jisung could, he would too. 

It just felt patronizing and awful—if he was honest—how they continued to baby him, and how there was a bond between the ‘00 liners Jisung knows he won’t ever secure with them. He always felt out of place, being the youngest without any members the same age (with the exception of Chenle, who has his own life to look after to) as him was difficult enough. Being friendless outside of NCT due to their hectic schedule was difficult too. Witnessing how his four hyungs interact while he’s shoved to the side was harder. He knew they presumably weren't conscious of it, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 

(Maybe Joonhyuk was right when he said Jisung was just an accessory after all)

Seeing how all the other members were busy, it left Renjun and Jisung on their own devices at the dorm. Jisung would’ve made up some excuse that he was needed for practice but Joonhyuk was not present that day and he wasn’t about to pass up a rest day just because he feels awkward around the older. It didn’t mean anything, he was just too intimidated by the sharp eyes and wisdom of his hyung. _It absolutely isn’t because of the fact he became uneasy with Renjun’s playful chokeholds because of Joonhyuk._ It was such a trivial thing and he felt embarrassed for even thinking of it. 

The two of them were in the living room— Renjun watching a movie on Netflix while Jisung logged into Dream’s twitter account, scrolling through tweets nonchalantly, liking some of the fans’ comments which made him smile until Renjun placed a hand on his shoulder and Jisung flinched, dropping the phone to the ground. 

His heart is pounding in his chest as he turns around and sees his hyung’s face etched with bewilderment and confusion. The hand Renjun used to pat him was stock still in the air, eyebrows raised while his eyes radiated concern as he scrutinized Jisung’s sparsely shaking form. “Jisung-ah, are you okay?” He questioned, worry seeping through his tone as Jisung inhaled, trying to force his muscles to relax from the sudden tension he endured. 

Jisung gulped noticeably, “I’m fine, hyung.” Renjun’s eyes narrowed in return, pausing the movie to avoid distractions and speak to the teen properly. 

“No, you’re not.” He bluntly responded, rolling his eyes at the blatant lie Jisung gave him as the latter stayed silent, unsure of what he should say. It was obvious he’d been caught in the act, but he didn’t really know how to tell the older teen that— yes, he’s not okay. No, he might probably never be okay. He’s been abused by Joonhyuk for so long now he forgot how to act like a normal teenager. How the pain would always be there with him. How it would follow him until his death. _He just wants to die, he just wants to die. Because anything would be better than this._ — 

“Jisung-ah?” Jisung was interrupted by his thoughts when Renjun waved his fingers in front of his face, the sternness being replaced with uncertainty and Jisung felt remorseful that he was liable for making his hyung sad. 

Renjun, as if reading his mind, sighed and stared directly into Jisung’s eyes, ruffling his hair softly, “You know we’re always here for you, right? I can’t force you to tell something you obviously don’t want to. But you have us, okay? You always will.” 

Jisung sniffled, trying to prevent the tears from spilling out of his eyes when he heard what his Renjun hyung said. He never knew he needed to hear that until the words came out of Renjun’s lips. He knew the older teen may seem aggressive and cold on the outside, but he was just an introvert who preferred his own space, just like Jisung. Jisung was receptive to how Renjun showed his sentiments, and he knew he truly cared for all of them all the same. 

“....isung? Jisung-ah?” Jisung’s head turned up at the sound of his name being mentioned, finding himself welcomed into an embrace. It was delicate, fleeting, but nonetheless an affection Jisung sought for. “ _Aegi_ , what’s wrong?” 

He shook his head, “N-nothing, Injunnie hyung. I’m okay, I promise. Thank you. _Thank you so much_.”

“What do you have to thank me for, you gigantic dork? Of course we’re always here for you. You know you can come to us any time, especially Jaemin. God knows how worried he is over you. Just promise me when you’re ready to tell me, tell us, what’s going on inside that head of yours, you will, alright?” 

Even without knowing it, Renjun helped him. Even without realizing it, a huge weight of burden was lifted off of Jisung’s chest. Despite that it was only a few days before the _agony_ came again, his words still guided the maknae throughout his worse days. He didn’t know how to thank Renjun enough for being considerate and trust that he’ll always look out for him. 

“I promise.” 

Too bad that that promise would be broken. 

  
  
  
  


The second and last time he was confronted— wasn’t as nice and smooth as the one he had with Renjun.

And how he just badly pleaded for that day to be erased from his memory. How he kept on thinking that if he could turn back time, he would. He never planned for it to go that route, yet what took place in the aftermath weakened his resolve to ever try and speak of his suffering anymore. 

It was one of the worst days of his life. 

Jisung vividly remembers everything that happened that day, from the time he woke up to the moment he unintentionally fell asleep in the practice room, completely bone-weary and miserable, his energy depleted from the hours of dancing and vocal training he underwent. He had forgotten entirely that Joonhyuk told him he was going to come back and observe him dance again when Ten barged in. 

Ten— his extremely talented and passionate, one of the kindest, funniest, and closest hyungs Jisung has. The hyung who has always looked out for him ever since he was an SM Rookie didn’t deserve to see him like this. He shouldn’t have to see how Jisung broke, how he woke up screaming when a pair of hands caressed him and a noticeably smaller figure (than his manager’s towering figure) hugged his back. Jisung couldn’t control it, his mind going into a frenzy as he reacted unthinkingly, letting out a scream before jumping towards the opposite side of the room, eyes downcast as he felt his own blood ringing in his ears.

He tried to steady himself but felt nauseated from the sound of his own pulse and heartbeat resonating loudly and he fell on his knees. The impact, alongside the bruises currently forming from the previous session with his manager, didn’t help either. Nonetheless, it did bring him back to reality to register that a familiar voice was calling him, “..sung? Jisungie? Baby?” 

He stilled again. That voice… that wasn’t his manager. That wasn’t Joonhyuk. It wasn’t the man who would berate him and beat him until he’d lose consciousness. Jisung’s head rose, and he met dumbfounded brown eyes meeting his own. 

“Ten hyung.” Jisung whispered weakly. 

Various emotions were swimming around the older man’s intense eyes— apprehension, puzzlement, anger, and Jisung suddenly felt the desire to disappear, or to huddle in a corner, that he would be left alone and that Ten won’t have to ask him about what just happened. He knew it was futile, however, and he was correct on that, for most part anyways. 

“What— what was that about, Jisung-ah? Tell me, _please_.” Ten’s voice cracked at the end, flustered and feeling helpless at the sight of Jisung screaming in fear (something he would like to never, ever hear again) and cowering away from him just minutes ago. He never wanted to startle Jisung, he knew his disinclination to surprises, but he never banked on the younger to act that way, _like someone was going to harm him_ . The thought made Ten’s head hurt. No matter how much he wanted to rationalize what he just saw occur, he was sure of one thing— that _that wasn’t fucking normal._

Ten may not have seen Jisung for months to notice a significant difference, as a result of WayV’s active and busy schedule, promotions, attending variety shows and all that. And to top that, SuperM’s preparation was gradually starting to take place. But he can _see_ that Jisung was unlike his old self. Anyone with eyes could see that. Ten wasn’t blind, he wasn’t ignorant as well. Although the old Jisung would be shocked to find someone hugging him while he was sleeping, he would _never_ react the same way as he did just now. 

It ignited a terrible feeling of terror in him, it made him scared, how little he knows about the youngest to look how much he’s become and learn why this happened. _And why is nobody doing anything about it?_

Jisung can’t help but feel on edge, struggling to reply as his Ten hyung’s eyes mirrored the despair on his own. A part of him wanted to blurt out everything he’s been going through, how Joonhyuk has been abusing him for months, how he managed to deliberately spin an illusion of being one of the kindest and approachable managers in SM. But a larger part of him was afraid, his head constructing the worst case scenarios.

(They would look at him in disgust, berating him and telling him that he’s weak for not defending himself, distancing themselves away from him until a better, more talented member will take his place, and soon enough forget about the maknae Jisung. Because he’s not worth it. He will never be worth it.) 

Jisung lowered his head down, gulping back down the words he wanted to say, “I’m okay, hyung. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

The older sucked in a breath, his face expressing his incredulity, “I don’t have to worry? I would _love_ to do that, but what I saw isn’t normal, nor a small matter. You and I both know it, Jisung. You went _hysterical_ when I touched you.” Jisung had to stop himself from shrinking back, finding himself unable to breathe properly. 

Ten continued, “You still even refuse to look at me now. You know you can talk to me, right? I’m your hyung, you’re my brother. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, so please, let me help you.” 

Jisung sobbed silently, running a hand through his hair as he blinked back tears, inhaling sharply. If he loses his composure, another panic attack was bound to happen. His stress levels have escalated, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead. Sunlight streamed from the windows outside, illuminating the distress and tension on his physique, like he was forced to grow up too fast. Ten can’t even begin to describe him— from the way Jisung stood, he even looked older than him. 

This was unfamiliar territory, and Ten was uncertain on what the outcome will be if it continues like that. 

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Jisung whispered brokenly. 

He closed his eyes instantly, preparing for the impending doom of Ten becoming furious at his statement and coerce him to get the truth out just like Joonhyuk does. But it never happened, instead when he eventually opened his eyes there was a defeated expression on the older man’s face, “Jisung, baby, what do you want me to do then? I can’t, and I _refuse_ to leave you like this, there’s something wrong and you know I’ll eventually find out about it. Does Taeyong hyung even know? Because if he doesn’t, you know I have to tell him-” 

_“NO!”_ The inhumane shriek that left Jisung’s lungs startled Ten so much that he stepped back. Jisung could just imagine it unfolding, the scenarios running through his head swiftly it made him swoon. He pictured Taeyong’s face, mouth scowling and eyes icy, admonishing him for not telling the truth sooner. Jisung knew it was ridiculous, yet he couldn’t deny the deteriorating part in his mind that believed the leader might even agree with Joonhyuk. He didn’t want that. 

He just wanted everything back the way it was supposed to, before Joonhyuk happened. He didn’t want them to walk around eggshells whenever he was there _if_ they learned about the truth.

Jisung’s had enough of being treated like he was an aberrant, a freak, a loser by people his age and his manager. He didn’t want that treatment from his hyungs too. 

All he ever dreamed of is to be regarded equal. Why is it so difficult to grant him that wish?

Jisung didn’t feel himself fall to the ground, his hands in a prayer motion as he begged, the tears in his eyes finally leaking unrestrictedly, “Ten hyung, please don’t tell Taeyong hyung about this. _Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but please don’t tell him. Or anybody else._ I promise I will tell you. _I can’t— I can’t breathe—._ ” He rambled feverishly. Ten knelt on the floor, clutching both his hands with his own, crying as he shook his head, trying to comfort the teen when he also felt heartbroken, “Jisung— Jisung, baby, calm down. _Breathe_ . I won’t tell Taeyong hyung, I promise. I won’t tell anyone else, as long as you tell me. Breathe, you’re safe here. You’re safe with me. Baby, focus. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale._ ” 

Jisung hiccuped, snot gushing from his nose, he knew he was an ugly crier, but he couldn’t care less anymore. “Ten hyung, I’m sorry. I promise I will tell you—“ 

“What is going on here?”

An impassive and frosty voice spoke up and Jisung’s breath caught in his throat. He went rigid, frightened. This was it. _He really fucked up now._ He was going to die. 

He didn’t know how long his manager’s been standing there and how much he heard, but he knew he would _not_ escape from this. It doesn’t matter if he caught the youngest blathering or not, Jisung’s tear-stricken face and the manner if Ten holding him protectively was enough for Joonhyuk to connect the dots together. 

The man’s hawk-like orbs wandered over the two figures before a smile made its way on his face. Jisung’s blood ran cold, feeling his hope vanish in the blink of an eye as Joonhyuk said, “Ten, your members must be looking for you, I saw them practicing a while back. You better head on now. And Jisung still needs to practice.” 

Ten stood up, and Jisung scrambled to follow him, wiping the residual tear stains off of his face and clasped his hands behind his back, eyes downcast to avoid making eye contact with the man, who appeared suspiciously happy. _And oh god, he was going to fucking die-_

“But Jisung needs me-“ 

“Don’t worry, Ten, **I’ll take care of it**.” Joonhyuk responded coolly, smiling like a Cheshire cat. On the outside, he appeared ordinary, but Jisung knew the difference, he was used to seeing through his manager’s facade. The rage and hostility in his eyes were there, despite being disguised by a comforting grin. 

Ten looked indignant, as if he was about to protest, but he must have seen something in the firm stare Joonhyuk gave him and he stopped, patting Jisung in the back gently. _Please don’t leave me here, Ten hyung. Please. Please. I don’t know if I’ll still make it back alive, please. Ten hyung—_

“I… I have to go now, Sungie. I will see you later, okay? Thank you, Manager hyung. Please take care of him for me.” The older bowed formally, frustration building inside him as he clenched and unclenched his fists 

Joonhyuk’s eyes glinted, “Oh, of course, Ten. I certainly will.” His meticulous gaze followed Ten’s form as he walked out, and when he was certain the dancer was far enough, he swiveled to lock the door. 

The man is clearly agitated— he was wringing his hands and pacing back and forth. There was even no time for him to react when Joonhyuk picked up the stool chair beside him and smashed into the wall next to Jisung’s head. Although his body didn’t receive any damage, the mirror behind him did, cracking to tiny pieces as it fell to the ground. _He_ **_is_ ** _mad, and Jisung is really, really dead now._

“What was that all about?” The indifference in his voice caused Jisung to falter before he instantly straightened. Joonhyuk is livid, but he seemed to be waiting for the right timing when Jisung replied, “I-I just had a nightmare, manager hyung. I didn’t realize that Ten hyung-“ 

He wasn’t even able to finish his sentence when a heavy slap echoed across his cheek without any hesitations, the strength causing Jisung’s knees to buckle and bite his tongue inadvertently, leading to blood surging from his mouth. He gagged and keeled over as another strike flew on his chest this time, incapacitating his lungs from letting him breathe properly. 

“Nightmare? A fucking nightmare? Do you think I’m stupid, Jisung-ah? Do you think I didn’t hear what you said?” 

Jisung wheezed, feeling paralyzed by the intense glare of hatred his manager was giving him. He lunges for the teen and brutally slammed his back on the area where shards of broken glass were still poking through. Jisung had to muffle a scream of agony as some pieces pierced his back. He could feel his back being scratched by the fragments but thankfully it wasn’t that sharp that it’ll cause bleeding. 

It doesn’t mean it didn’t feel like torture, however.

“No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. _Please stop_!” Jisung howled in pain when the man, without warning, let his fist collide with Jisung’s stomach. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t come back, that I didn’t hear you begging Ten not to tell Taeyong whatever shit it is you did, and how you told him you were going to tell him everything? Do you think I’m that dense that I won’t be able to put two and two together to realize you were talking about **me**?”

“Do you have any idea how you could’ve put me in trouble, Jisung?” 

Jisung struggled as his path of airway was blocked by Joonhyuk’s hands steadily making its way on his neck, forming a crescent-shaped bruise as he strangled the younger to the point he was seeing stars. He suddenly let go and Jisung gasped, coughing roughly before he was pulled up again. “I’m so sorry, manager-“

Joonhyuk rolled his eyes, “Stop giving me that apology bullshit. It means nothing to me. Honestly, do you really think _they_ think about you? Face it, your NCT hyungs do not give a fucking shit about you. If they did, you wouldn’t be in this situation, under my knees, like a pathetic dog. They don’t, and ever will, care about you. They wouldn't even bat an eye if you fucking _die_. You’re just a toy, Jisung. A toy for me to use.” 

“What’s the point of keeping me around when you can just kill me then?” Jisung retorted, scowling before he had to hold a whimper when the man punched him in the face. Joonhyuk chuckled derisively, reveling in the sight of the younger looking absolutely defeated. He let go of the latter, strolling around as he put a mocking thoughtful look. “Do you really think I’ll make it easy for you?”

“ _Now_ , where would the fun be in that? When you’re dead, who am I going to play around with anymore? Unless… you want me to move to another member, then? Perhaps… Renjun, he’s smaller than you, and I know he has a smart mouth on him, I bet I can shut him up pretty quickly. Or Chenle? He’s your ‘bestfriend’, right? Would you rather have him get hurt? Be my toy instead? That one would be interesting. I’d get him to _scream_ for hours and hours until he _breaks_. Or maybe one of the older ones, how about Mark? He seems weak. All of them are easy targets for me. Are you that selfish to sacrifice your own members, Jisungie?~ Do you really want that?” 

Jisung’s eyes widened, shaking his head frantically. The boy feels paralyzed, pleading pitifully, “Manager hyung, I’m begging you. Please, don’t hurt them. I promise, I won’t say anything to anyone. _Ever_. Just please— d-don’t hurt them.” Jisung’s voice cracks, sobs wracking his frame. 

Joonhyuk, in turn, scoffed, “ _Know your place_ , Jisung. This is a fair deal for the both of us. So don’t ever think you can try and humiliate me in front of everyone. _I_ have the power, and you don’t. You are a puppet, Jisung. You _will_ do everything and anything I say if you don’t want your members to get hurt.” 

“I understand, manager hyung.” 

His abuse didn’t stop there. Yet he didn’t care anymore, he was no longer aware of how long he’s been stuck in that deserted practice room, Jisung just prayed that they would all be okay. That he would be enough to sate Joonhyuk so that all his hyungs would be safe; even after everything that might and is happening to him. 

Because that was all he ever wanted. 

_Sorry I don’t know how_

_Sorry there’s no way out (sorry)_

_But down_

_Hmm, down_

When Jisung gets back, he and Ten don’t talk like they promised. 

Instead, he puts on a cheerful facade, covering up the gloomy Jisung everyone knew for the past few days with _Jisung PwArk_ , surprising his members at the sudden change yet exhilarated and thankful to see that he’s well. _Or so they think._ He comes up with a bunch of lies about why he had been acting that way, apologizing and promising to be open with his thoughts, relieved to see the smile on Renjun’s face as they accept his excuse.

Little did they know that hindsight was destroying him. The memories and phantom pain did too. 

But it was for the better. Jisung stayed strong. He did what he had to do, he didn’t think, he was just doing. For two weeks, Joonhyuk noticed the change and even let him off easily compared to the _other times_. He felt reassured, empty yet his mind was put to rest. A false sense of security enveloping his vulnerable body before it was taken off harshly by another round of _practice_ and self-depreciation. 

Life carried on as he had gone through months trying to fix his mistakes. Trying to make everything right and under wraps. He was confident that the universe hated him, for one step he took forward, two steps back, deteriorating and making it worse. But he kept trying, kept fighting, kept masking himself until he forgot how to be the real him. It was easier to play pretend and act as if his life was just a movie waiting for the plot twist to begin and receive the happy ending he deserved

His method of ignoring things and hoping it will go away did not work with the voices in his mind. 

Because Death followed him. It didn’t hurt him, not directly, _it had someone who did the dirty deed for him after all._ But he felt it, from his soul to his bones. 

Death became his shadow, and a shadow never leaves, not even in the dark, not even when light festered and grew. It will always be with him, a raging beast tearing through his mind and ripping every single piece of sanity he’s tried to withheld. Jisung has given up trying to run away, because he will never get away from the war inside his head. 

_This_ will never leave him alone, unless he surrendered to it.

And sometimes, contemplating his own death was starting to look like a better idea than the wishful thinking he clutched onto for so long. 

_Taste me, these salty tears on my cheeks_

_That’s what a year-long headache does to you_

_I’m not okay, I feel so scattered_

_Don’t say I’m all that matters_

_Leave me, deja vu_

In the end, it was never an intentional decision. 

Jisung didn’t feel anything new. Nothing eye-opening ensued, it was a normal afternoon and he was all alone and simply suffering. It was so easy to ignore it before, use unhealthy coping mechanisms to distract himself, but now it was all he could see and feel. Everything made him feel like _shit_. Even on his best days he still wanted to die.

Even when he was being held in Jaemin’s arms, smothered by cheek pinches from Jeno and Renjun, pecked on the cheek by Chenle, he still would rather be dead. And it _terrified_ him. Frightened to know what it meant for him, how it destroyed his whole being knowing he has to choose between sparing himself from pain or sparing his brothers from the agony they will go through. 

It hurts when you lose somebody. Jisung was well aware of that fact, and he knew it was even worse when they learn when it was his own choice to go. He wished there was some way for them to forget him completely, so that they wouldn’t have to be sad when he eventually _dies_. That there may be a way to die without making his family or anyone else grieve. He didn’t want them to go through mourning and sorrow for him. He doesn’t deserve it.

But things are becoming too much, the whispering in his head getting louder and louder. It was just so, so difficult to carry on. 

Jisung was scared. He didn’t want to leave them like this. Hell, he didn’t even want to die in the first place. He was only a teenager, he had so much left in his life— countries to go to, movies to see, comebacks to perform, life experiences to look forward to, achievements with the Dream he still wished to accomplish.

But he was only human. And human beings are fragile. 

Jisung was drifting away, and while he may look fine on the outside, it made him wonder how far his anchor could go as he drifted away. He didn’t want to go, but he didn’t know if he could make that choice for himself anymore. 

It had just been so much worse without any reason why at all. Whatever he’d felt before was increased to a thousand. His heart was still beating but he felt like he died a long time ago. He knew he was not weak but at the same time he didn’t know the extent of what’s wrong with him. 

He didn’t want to make this choice. But everything was just piling up, leaving him so worn and old. 

Jisung felt so small. Smaller than he ever could, which was a shocking contrast to his growing giant-like frame. So insignificant in the eyes of the world, there are trainees he knew that would be able to replace him easily if he was gone. He was just floating by, barely a speck in the universe. 

Life felt like a chore. And Joonhyuk was the last straw. The straw that broke his back. 

And he just wanted to go home, to a place where eyes didn’t constantly follow his every move, criticizing any and every single thing he does— from his looks, to his personality, to the way he dresses, his dancing and vocals, and even how he interacts with other members. How netizens called him rude when he acted like a ‘maknae on top’ but how they also called him too shy and awkward when he barely spoke. As if he wasn’t affected by their comments. As if all their off-handed remarks didn’t swirl around his head endlessly like a broken tape. 

It was simple, really. 

When you couldn’t take away your pain, your depression, nor the beatings you receive, you take away yourself, so you wouldn’t feel it anymore. If one thing would never budge and would never change. . . well, something else had to. So he did. 

That something just had to be particularly his own life. 

It was unexpected, but he had the courage now. He’s not going to back out, not after all his last attempts were miraculously thwarted by a set of circumstances he couldn’t avoid. All he wanted was to be free. To be at peace.

All he needed was somebody to save him from himself. 

_If you need me, wanna see me_

_You better hurry, I’m leaving soon_

It’s time. 

Jisung was drowning. He’d been drowning for a long time, metaphorically, emotionally, and mentally. It had all been sinking, everyday felt like he was falling into a never-ending abyss that would swallow him whole. 

And now, he was truly, undoubtedly and determinately going to drown, _physically_. 

If you asked him why he wanted such a gruesome death, he wouldn’t know what to tell you. He knew drowning was one of the painful ways to die but he wasn’t scared, he had willed his fear to go away for a long time. Jisung was also aware that there was a possibility he still might live, if someone saw him. However, at this point he was so lost he didn’t know what he was doing and didn’t care what happened to him. If he survives, he lives and… he doesn’t know. But if he dies, well then _good._

He’s made sure that there was no one else at their dorm when he started filling the bathtub in his and Jaemin’s bathroom. They were all out— NCT 127 was in America, which meant Haechan wouldn’t accidentally find him, Chenle was at his own home, while Jaemin, Renjun and Jeno told him that they would go out and would probably be back around midnight. 

(It was only late afternoon— it seemed like the perfect timing for his plan.)

Jisung wasn’t stupid, he knew drowning would hurt. Nonetheless, he didn’t care. He no longer cared for anything. Except for his hyungs, that is. 

While everything he thought of was impulsive, he would _never_ let Joonhyuk hurt anyone ever again. His diary was proof of that —every date, every evidence that could be used against their manager— it was all there. 

The thought of his own life becoming collateral just to be assured that their manager would be fired and possibly prisoned, to never be able to hurt another one of his hyungs would have been perplexing months ago. Too unfair to comprehend. But, Jisung could no longer feel that way. He had become numb. As the world moved on forward, he felt unfamiliar and smaller as it progressed, feeling like an ant underneath a man’s foot. Forever repressed in the sea of growing pains. 

In another life, maybe he would’ve become one of most recognized idols in South Korea. In another life, he’d never have to be forced to grow up too fast, blissfully innocent and praised daily. Maybe in another life, he would have had the courage to open up before it was too late and Joonhyuk would have never been able to lay a hand on him from the very beginning. Maybe it would’ve taken him months to recover, but he would never come to the point of attempting _suicide_. 

In another life, Jisung would wake up with dreams of his childhood and fond memories with his members as they hugged him, pinched his cheeks, and left kisses on his face. Where he was loved by millions, where he comes back stronger than ever, ready to face the crowd with a confident yet genuine grin on his face. In another life, he’d be free of the voices in his head and the itch to _hurt hurt hurt_ himself. 

But in this life, there is no happy ending. ( _At least from what he believes.)_

In this life, Jisung sits on the tub, thin sweater and pants instantly soaked with the numbing water. He looked down at himself, at the scars and palette of old and new bruises. The extremely prominent ribs and sunken cheeks. Joonhyuk once off-handedly commented that he should just go ahead and kill himself if he was that pathetic… and, he did. 

Jisung once thought about how he lost all control in his own life, and this was him finding that control. Making a decision all on his own, without the demands of his manager nor their company ringing in his ear. He was falling apart, his mind was killing itself, but this is a choice he didn’t want to make yet did anyway— his own death. 

It was that power he held in his hand for the first time in the long, gruesome months and he wasn’t going to back out now. He has his life under his own jurisdiction, and there was no possible way of restraining him from _freedom_. 

So, in this life, Jisung lets the water pour and pour until it overflows. And he smiles widely, eyelids flickering as he closed his brown eyes. He let his hands and legs go, sinking as he huffed a breath one last time, a delighted laugh coming out from his mouth before tears flowed, however, this too was washed away by the gushing water. 

He breathed deeply, falling and falling until he felt his back hit the bottom. He could feel his own body using up the last bit of oxygen and pleading for him to go up, before it was too late. 

No bubbles of air left his lips as Jisung laid still, fighting against the struggle of his own mind, clinging to anything that could continue his life until he could feel himself becoming sleepier. 

The light is so weak now. Everything was pitch black. Stars were starting to build in his vision and he grinned once more, he would be okay now. He would just sleep, the pain would disappear and he would be at peace. 

It was better this way. 

_Sorry can’t save me now_

_Sorry I don’t know how_

_Sorry there’s no way out_

_But down_

_Hmm, down  
  
_

It was okay. Everything will be okay. He just didn’t want to feel anymore. The desolation, pain, and panic would go away.

They would all be okay. It was alright. Everything will turn out just the way it’s supposed to.

Jisung just stopped breathing. And his heart stopped beating. He closed his eyes, feeling the sense of content and sleepiness overcome his own body. He smiled even as he slept. He’s okay now. Everyone will be okay.

It was all for the best.

  
  


_“JISUNG!”_   
  


_Call my friends and tell them that I love them_

_And I’ll miss them_

_Sorry_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. You’ve made it this far. I’m so sorry in advance, because like I’ve mentioned, this is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better. But don’t worry, I won’t leave you guys hanging for too long! 
> 
> Again, this is a work of fiction and doesn’t reflect my stance on Jisung, and before you guys get mad at me for the lack of members in this part, don’t fret. This first chapter is ALL in Jisung’s point of view because I wanted to describe how he feels beforehand. The next few chapters will all surround around the other members and their reactions. Aaand that will be a long rollercoaster of emotions, so I suggest tissues...
> 
> Anyways, please leave some comments and kudos if you liked it! Those give me a lot of motivation. English is not my first language however so please bear with grammatical errors and typos I didn’t see. This is unbeta-ed as well because I worked on this on the course of midnights crying and projecting myself to Jaemin and Jisung.
> 
> Feel free to leave suggestions or chat with me on Twitter for ideas!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Jisung's suicide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a day late but happy renjun day! 
> 
> trigger warning for sensitive content such as mentions of suicide/abuse.

There was a strange sense of foreboding as Chenle climbed up the stairs of the building where their dorm was located, finding the familiar footholds. 

It’s only been a few weeks since he last visited but he felt horrible, an itch on the back of his mind nagging at him to check his best friend and his gut coiling in onto itself as a frantic sense overwhelmed him. 

Chenle wasn’t stupid, he knew that Jisung was hiding something from him, he just couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Jeno once mentioned that he was overthinking things when he brought it up, but it was evident they were all worried too. Since Haechan moved back to the 127 dorms after they finished their comeback promotions, he wasn’t around enough for them to persuade him to help, especially since he was the one who perceived situations easily among the four of them, Renjun comes a close second. 

And Mark was… too overworked and overloaded with schedules that they barely see him anymore. Chenle hated bringing it up, but ever since their unofficial leader graduated, everything began changing. The ‘00 liners’ bond became even more closed off, and even though it was accidental, it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. It didn’t help that Jisung started becoming different either. 

Chenle considered himself the best at reading his best friend’s emotions and seeing through all the facades he’s put up to protect himself, but the past months had him aggravated, finding himself unable to distinguish Jisung’s truths or lies anymore, which lead him to unintentionally ignore the maknae whenever he tried to invite him to hang out. 

He felt terrible and it was only when a huge ball of guilt started eating him alive when he released how unfair it was of him to impose the cold-shoulder treatment on the maknae just because he was being sulky, and he knew Jisung must be feeling really lonely. 

Although he did as well, taking care of his nephew and being with family gave him a distraction from feeling isolated. Being cooped up in their dorms without friends not only because of their hectic schedules, but also because SM forbids too much contact with outsiders, was something Chenle was familiar with all too well. 

So, he decided to stop moping around, eager to patch things up with Jisung and elevate his spirits. That decision brought him to his situation, silently strolling along with airpods filtering music in his ears and a bag of food in one hand until he reached their dorm. 

He just wanted to comfort Jisung and let him know that he still loved him entirely. That he was still his bestest friend and no one could replace him, and that even though he is going through something and doesn’t feel comfortable in sharing it with him yet, Chenle will always and forever be there for him.

Coincidentally, as he turned to open the door with his own spare key, Chenle heard three familiar voices chatting animatedly behind him and he twisted his body to see Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin behind him holding groceries, appearing to be bewildered to see him at their dorm late in the evening, 

“Lele, what’s up? You didn’t tell us you’d be coming. It’s late.” Jeno asked.

Renjun’s eyes flickered between the younger’s abashed face and the bag of food he was holding, “I think he’s here for Jisung. Aren’t you?” 

Chenle nodded sheepishly, “Yes, Renjun hyung. I was hoping to catch up with Sungie and hang out with him.” 

Understanding made its way on Jaemin’s eyes and his lips slightly tilted upwards as the three of them exchanged a knowing glance, “Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, Lele~ Baby chick’s been brooding and we rarely get to invite him anywhere anymore. Maybe you’ll slap some sense into him.” He added the last part jokingly.

“Oh… I better go see him then, is he in the living room, hyung?” 

“When we left, he told me he’ll take a nap on my bed. So he’s probably still there.” Jaemin replied as he stepped forward to open the door and enter their dorm. Soon afterwards, the rest of them followed and Renjun gave him a soft pat on his shoulder, grumbling something about the ungodly amount of food Jaemin bought as they both headed towards the kitchen.

Chenle clambered up the steps until he arrived in front of Jaemin and Jisung’s room. “Sungie, are you there?” He asked timidly, frowning when he received no response.

Determinedly, he shook his head and twisted the door knob, setting foot inside, feeling a pang of nostalgia hit him. Because everything was the same— from the cleanliness of Jaemin’s side of the room to the rumpled covers on Jisung’s bunk and the sweaters splayed out on the floor. Everything was just as he remembered. 

But Jisung wasn’t there.

The lack of a Jisung-shaped lump playing games on his phone and eating chips on Jaemin’s bed, or sleeping, was proof of that. Confusion etched on Chenle’s face as he went over the desk. _Didn’t Jaemin hyung say he was here? I didn’t see him anywhere else either._

He placed the food on the table, carefully moving the diary he knew Jisung owned for a long time aside. It may not look like it but Jisung loved keeping track of his thoughts and jotting down lyrics whenever he was bored or alone. And all of them knew better than to open it without his permission. 

They all made a promise to the maknae that they would never open his journal unless he allowed them to, and Chenle didn’t want to break Jisung’s trust over something so small yet obviously meaningful. He wasn’t one to break promises either, regardless of the temptation of taking a glimpse. 

Chenle looked over the trash bin, and at all the rumpled and torn pieces of paper discarded haphazardly inside it. His nose scrunched in curiosity and went to pick one of them up, intending to make use of the paper. 

He undid it, straightening the paper out on the tabletop. The crinkles flattened and Chenle was instantly greeted with the sight of Jisung’s _very_ recognizable handwriting just as his eyes flitted around the Korean characters, squinting as he tried to make out the words.   
  


_Dear hyungs._

_  
__I’m sorry that it has come to this. I know it may come as a surprise but_ —

It stopped. Chenle’s eyebrows raised in bemusement, scratching his head as a million of thoughts ran through his mind. Why was Jisung writing a letter of apology when he could just say whatever he wanted to in person? And why was he writing a letter in the first place? It was so odd and unlike his best friend to do so.

Chenle began picking up and smoothing out the other letters, all in different states of writing but contained the same apologies and none getting much farther than when he talked about apologizing.

It wasn’t like Jisung was planning to leave… right?

… because the letters made it seem like he was quitting. 

It didn’t make sense, but at the same time Chenle could find some logic in it. Why would Jisung write a letter if he wasn’t planning on leaving? Every Dream member, sans Haechan, sensed something off with him. And while he pretended to be the same, Chenle was smarter than that. It was one of the few things he thankfully didn’t lose perception with when Jisung started acting weird. 

The abhorrent feeling he’d been feeling came back in full force. His anxiety was climbing up faster than it should be and he was aware that if he didn’t stop overthinking, it would result in a full-blown panic attack, and that was the _last_ thing he wanted at that moment. 

Thus, he forced himself to inhale, and exhale. It didn’t stop his heart rate from pounding but at the very least, he was able to regain his breathing. 

Chenle stood up, pacing on and about, scrambling around the room for a few more moments until he spotted Jisung’s phone on the floor. Without realizing, his hand quickly snatched it and clicked the home button as a [ picture of him and Jisung ](https://data.whicdn.com/images/330586139/original.jpg) lit up on the screen. 

His heart clenched at the sight, and Chenle almost started tearing up at the thought of Jisung disappearing on him like that… before he stopped and rolled his eyes. If his phone was here, it meant that Jisung was still at the dorm, because no matter the circumstances, the younger would never go away without his phone. 

He gently set the gadget down on the bed, brushing himself off and trying to push back his unsettling agitation in favor of finding where his missing best friend could be. He stood up and walked out of the room and into the hall. 

Chenle crept forward and made his way to the door which he knew was the bathroom. _If Jisung isn’t in his room, he’d be in the bathroom. It’s his favorite hiding spot whenever he feels upset after all_. 

“Sungie, are you there?” Chenle asked, noticing that the door was closed. He shivered, feeling a disconcerting chill at the emptiness and lack of reply. However, there was light peeking out from underneath, so the teen pressed his ear to the wall and heard the stream of water flowing constantly. _So he is inside, why isn’t he replying to me though?_

“ _Xing Xing_ … I brought food, come out now~” Chenle whined, using his nickname and intending to lure Jisung out with the promise of food. Instead, the teen didn’t receive an acknowledgement that he heard him yet again, causing him to let out a ‘tsk’. “Yah! Park Jisung, if you plan on ignoring me, it’s not working! You know that I know you forget to lock the door most of the time, I won’t hesitate to come inside.”

Nothing. 

Chenle gulped, suddenly feeling cautious. His thoughts were running wild again and he felt his heart drop to his stomach without knowing why. He didn’t know much about what he feels whenever it’s related to Jisung anymore. “I’m going in, okay? You better just be messing around with me.” 

It was quiet. No jokes— nothing, zero, zip, nada. No Jisung coming out, laughing and telling him that he was just pranking the other boy. 

His hand pushed open the door, and suddenly the silence made sense.

But then it wasn’t silent anymore. Because Chenle started screaming. He dropped to his knees, shaking and unable to move. 

His eyes locked onto the still form of his best friend. Jisung— who was just smiling and laughing a few days ago, Jisung who he just teased and played games with. The person whom he trusts the most. His best friend, whose body was glistening innocently in the water.

Chenle heard the rush of footsteps behind him and the resonating sounds of gasps and a choked shout. He could feel someone grabbing him from the back and that’s when his reality sunk in. He lashed out, tears freely flowing from his eyes as he _wailed_ and _wailed_ Jisung’s name. 

He tried to focus, but the only thing he was vaguely aware of was water splashing and a member _(Jeno hyung, his mind supplied unhelpfully_ ) tugging at him. All of them were sobbing as Jaemin and Renjun yanked Jisung’s body out of the tub, begging him to wake up. _This is too much_. 

He didn’t understand what the hell was happening. Too much. It was all too much. He can’t handle it, he can’t breathe—

Chenle’s vision was starting to blur, black spots forming in his eyes. His knees buckled and he would have crashed if it wasn’t for Jeno swiftly catching him and gently placing him on the floor. “ _Le… please don’t…. Out.. Le_ — _?!”_

He’s so tired, he wanted to sleep, just like Jisung _because he’s just taking a nap right? He probably fell asleep accidentally. Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine. Everything’s okay. Sungie will wake up and I’ll never leave his side anymore. He will be right as rain in no time._

“Jisung…” Chenle hoarsely whispered, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Everything was black.

And the last thing he heard was one of his hyungs crying out for someone to call an ambulance. 

_Jisung. Jisung. Jisung. Jisung. Jisung. Jisung. JISUNG. JISUNG. SUNGIE_ —

* * *

“Hey, Jaeminnie—” Renjun called out Jaemin’s attention as the latter raised his head to see the former waving around a pack of celery sticks in his hands.

Both of them were left in their own devices in the middle of organizing the groceries they (or more specifically, Jaemin) bought in the kitchen seeing as Jeno dashed the moment they went inside, going into hiding before Renjun could even convince ~~_demand_~~ him to help them out. 

“Yes, Injunnie?” 

“Do you really think Jisung’s okay?” came out from Renjun’s mouth bluntly. Jaemin ceased from his movements, a contemplative expression on his face as he responded, “Why are you asking me that, Jun?” 

The Chinese teen scoffed minutely and gave him a pointed look, “Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Jaem. All of us have seen the way he’s been acting. There’s something going on with him.” 

Jaemin merely sighed in defeat, rubbing his forehead stressfully. Renjun was never one to sugarcoat his words, and there was no use in trying to play dumb when they’ve already went through the same topic in the past. “Fine, I admit it. But how could we confront him when he shies away? And how do we help him when we don’t even know what’s causing him distress?”

Renjun quieted, looking cross so Jaemin added, “But I want to help him. Do you remember when you told Jeno and I about the time he cried in front of you?” 

Renjun nodded, recalling the details of _that_ day vividly. “I was so scared when you explained what occurred between the two of you, because even if he cries easily, he _never_ breaks down without a reason. You said he sounded really vulnerable that time too, but when he came back he acted like nothing happened.”

Jaemin didn’t want to assume anything. Because it _terrified_ him. The notion that something was happening to Jisung without any of them knowing, or worse, getting hurt was too much for him. 

The Chinese teen straightened up, gasping as his eyes cleared, “Oh my god I think-”

But before he could even finish what he was about to say, a blood-curdling scream echoed throughout their whole dorm.. Jaemin blanched as it didn’t stop, bawling continuously as Chenle’s voice ear-splittingly grated their ears.

_“JISUNG!”_

Renjun and Jaemin wasted no time in sprinting frantically upstairs as soon as they heard Chenle’s plea for help. The former nearly collided with Jeno as he left his room, having heard the inexplicable horror in their second youngest’s voice, as if he walked into something he shouldn’t have. 

The three of them traded glances with each other, igniting within them a type of fear they’ve never felt before as they reached the front of the bathroom where Chenle was on his knees, his own hands pulling at his scalp as he cried. 

And it filled them with dread. 

Jeno immediately staggered and dropped behind him, trying to console him desperately but Chenle fought back, flailing his arms. Jaemin’s heart leapt into his throat, too disoriented to move but something must have caught Renjun’s eye, because he ruthlessly shoved the teen aside and lunged towards the bathroom. 

“JAEMIN! HELP ME OUT!”

Jaemin’s joints unlocked, stumbling forward on stiff limbs paralyzed by confusion and apprehension, falling to his knees as his wide eyes fixed on the scene in front of him, the horrifying realization dawning on his face a little bit too late.

Seconds later, he wished he could have closed his eyes because his brain recorded every passing minute, etched in his memory the strangled sound of Renjun sobbing as they both reached into the water, hands wrapping around Jisung and wrenching him out. 

“Jisung-ah, Sungie, please wake up. Why isn’t he waking up?!” Renjun pleaded, clutching Jisung to himself tightly, as if desperately hoping that his hold on him could anchor him to this world, to stay alive ( _before it was too late_ ).

Jaemin was in a state of shock, shoulders trembling as he looked down on the thin ( _when did he become so skinny?_ ) wet frame, waterlogged limbs weighing on him heavily. The maknae’s head was cradled on Renjun’s hunched form and Jaemin’s eyes finally rested on his face.

Everything was the same— from the hair, the pale features, the traces of tears that must have fallen and washed away with the water. Jisung’s face was unnervingly peaceful, a ghost of a smile in his devastatingly beautiful expression, his long lashes brushing across his cheeks. If one ignored the circumstances, it was almost as if he was just sleeping. 

But that’s where the similarities stopped. Because Jisung wasn’t damaged, he didn’t have scars or bruises poking through his thin sweater. And he didn’t weigh only 120 pounds. He couldn’t be. 

It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be… _because_ this body was fragile and littered with a multitude of wounds, because never would he resort to self-harming, much less drown himself and take his own life. 

It _wasn’t_ him… but it was. 

Jaemin knew Jisung better than the back of his own hand, they’d grown up together for gods’ sake, they’d seen each other’s naked bodies. And despite the fact that Jaemin was gone for a year, he still knew Jisung better than that. 

This was him… and he was dying. 

The thought hit Jaemin like a truck, the haze-like confusion clearing and allowing room for the pain to come slamming into him relentlessly. 

Jaemin didn’t even realize the silent tears sliding down his cheeks were his own until it fell in his hand and onto the floor. He wasn’t sobbing outright, unlike Renjun who was weeping freely nor Jeno who was sniffling loudly. Not even Chenle, who didn’t stop from wailing Jisung’s name. Because his agony couldn’t simply be expressed by tears. It was much, much worse than that. 

He’d never known grief like this before. 

Seized by a sudden impulse, he gently grasped Jisung’s hand, which had been hanging lifelessly, lacing their fingers together. _Too cold, he was too cold_. Deceptively delicate, this innocent touch, the feeling of Jisung’s cold skin on his, grounded him, though it brought another wave of anguish from the reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare. That it was real.

It was too much. 

He could only turn his head as Jeno yelped in surprise, eyes filled with renewed fear as he opened his mouth, “Lele… he passed out-” 

“CALL AN AMBULANCE! NOW!’   
  


Renjun fell to the ground with a strangled sound, a cross between a sob and moan, as he watched the sight of the ambulance which held Jisung and Chenle in a stretcher, as well as Jaemin and Jeno who went with the paramedics slowly faded from view. 

_How could everything go so, so wrong in just one day?_

There had been a cacophony of noises coming from the voices of the medical staff as they checked him while they asked question after question. But he couldn’t remember anything after that. He had lost feeling in all his sensations when the adrenaline wore off, letting his body slide down the floor as his thoughts attacked him mercilessly.

It was obvious Jaemin was the most affected, because the teen didn’t say anything or even make a noise since they found Jisung’s body in the tub, almost catatonic until Jeno helped him up to the ambulance while Renjun made the decision to stay behind, to tell _Kun hyung_ what happened. To seek sanctuary in one of the members who were in Korea, who he’s closest with among the Chinese members, aside from Chenle. 

He was exhausted, and in pain, but he’d be damned before he let anyone else do this task. He had to be strong, for them, for _Jisung_. 

Renjun was hollowed out by the ache, empty from the crying and begging he had done. There was nothing left in him to rage. He was drowning in memories, a sea of happiness becoming the worst place of torture. And even though Jeno didn’t say anything out loud before they left, each one of them was blaming themselves. 

Because they had no idea that while they were outside, having fun, Jisung was already planning his own death, was already planning on committing _suicide_ by drowning himself. 

_You could’ve stopped this,_ a voice echoed in his head viciously, rattling him in his bones. _If you had noticed, if you had been there, you could’ve saved him._

Renjun should have been there, he should have noticed that there was something off when Jisung genuinely smiled and hugged them before they left. He should have never left him.

Because suddenly everything made sense. 

The sympathetic stares the paramedics gave when they saw Jisung’s body, the oxygen and medical equipment they used as they lay his body on a stretcher, the words they mumbled to themselves as one sentence struck Renjun the most and left him unfeeling.

_Possible case of abuse._

The ribs, the gaunt cheeks, the fake smiles and laughs Jisung probably thought Renjun never took notice of. The reasons he gave them as he excused himself from lunch and dinner. When Jisung broke down in front of him, how he would distance himself bit by bit. And now, the bruises and scars that he obviously would never have had inflicted on himself. 

Someone was hurting him, right under their noses. And they never even paid attention. 

The image made him recoil, a whirlpool of emotions stirring within him. No one has ever accused him of being stupid, so he knew, he could tell something was wrong with their youngest. Yet he dismissed it all. Just like everyone else did. 

Renjun didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to laugh at himself for coming up with such ideas. But when the evidence was openly displayed for everyone to see and the medics all but announced it to the world, how could he? 

It was only a moment before his head tilted into the air, releasing the most sorrowful scream as he was overcome with his emotions and thoughts mingling together. 

An achingly raw and mournful sound tearing out from his vocal cords, announcing the pain and grief in the only way he could. It pierced the air with such intensity that it echoed through the silence of their dorms, he remembered how Jisung had stared and laughed until he couldn’t breathe. His playful demeanor, announcing to the world how he’s the maknae on top. 

He was always burning with fervor, with life and vitality, the spark for his passion of performing— be it dancing, singing, or rapping. Dream’s awkward yet loving (so, so full of love and happiness) maknae. One of the people Renjun cherished and treasured in his heart the most… gone. 

Because Jisung was the glue that held them together. 

And without him, they’d fall to pieces.   
  


* * *

  
Once Renjun came back to his senses, he stood up shakily, stubbornly making his way through the seemingly never-ending stairs, barely focusing on what he was doing. He didn’t care if his legs were throbbing from soreness. Heedless of the pain, he plodded on, only stopping when he was faced with the familiar mirrored walls of WayV’s practice room.

Renjun didn’t know how far he’d walked from their dorm to be able to reach the SM building that quickly, but he didn’t care anymore— _Jisung was more important_.

He could obscurely hear the sound of bickering and music and he wasn’t sure how long he stood there until someone must have seen his huddled and tensed form from the inside because everything stopped and the door opened. 

Renjun couldn’t focus on anything else, he just keeled over and his legs crumpled underneath him before two pairs of hands gripped his arms to steady him and he raised his face to see a worried Sicheng and Lucas staring at him.

He couldn’t control the sob that escaped from him, clinging to his hyung as he heard the shuffling of people around till Ten and Kun dropped in front of him, concern evident in the way they held him, as if they were trying to console him. He could almost scoff derisively at the idea, nothing can comfort him. Not when Jisung’s life was on the line. 

“Renjun-ah? What’s wrong?” 

Renjun opened his mouth, mustering all the courage left inside him, willing his tears not to fall and his voice not to break as he whimpered, “Kun _ge_ , Jisung’s been rushed to the hospital.”   
  


Kun’s heart hammered in his chest as he heard what Renjun said, disbelief coating each of their features as he exchanged glances with Ten and Lucas, the anxiety and trepidation unmistakable in their eyes. Even Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Hendery who were never officially introduced to Jisung seemed aghast. 

The latter three sat on the other side, seemingly trying to give them space as Lucas carried the crying Renjun in his arms. Sicheng and Kun followed, shocked at seeing the younger in such a condition. 

“W-what happened, Renjun?” Lucas spoke up, reverting back to Mandarin in hopes of being able to communicate with him easier.

Kun’s eyes followed him as Renjun inhaled deeply, looking almost conflicted, wrapping his arms around his knees and hiding his head in between them, “I… I don’t know what went wrong, we should’ve seen it. You should’ve seen him, Xuxi ge, Sicheng hyung- he was..” Renjun breathlessly rambled, a strangled cry escaping his mouth.

It was a bit startling to realize, the conflict was a new one. He couldn’t bear to see the hopelessness on the younger’s face as he continuously shed tears. Ten slid beside him, patting his shoulder comfortingly, a helpless expression on his face as he glanced at them for support. They didn’t know what was wrong, Kun can’t stand seeing Renjun in this state, something he’s never had to experience before. It was like… whatever happened scarred him. He looked so defeated.

And it scared him. 

“H-he had so many bruises, and scars, Ten hyung. I-I… he must have had enough. I don’t know how we’ve never seen it, hyung. I’m just. I’m so mad at myself, this would’ve never happened if we were there, Sicheng ge.” He aimlessly babbled, delirious as his eyes sought every single of their figures.

_“He drowned himself, hyung.”  
  
_

…. What?

There are things in life that you simply don’t expect.

Things that you never really thought about, or that should have been impossible. Things that caught you off-guard, whether good or bad.

And Kun would have to say that… this is pretty bad. 

He heard Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Hendery gasp out loud simultaneously, but he ignored them. Ten’s arm fell in surprise, stepping back as if he was scalded with hot water, Sicheng slipped to the ground in his shock, tears immediately filling his shiny orbs as he tried to process what Renjun revealed to them.

“Wait.. wait… hold up… Renjun, please tell me that I’ve just misheard you, _please,_ ” Ten managed to croak out, almost imploringly, but Renjun merely stayed quiet, shaking his head.

The air was sucked from each of their lungs, and Kun felt like crying. 

“You must be lying, right? Stop the jokes, Renjun, it’s not funny.” Ten insisted, anger and denial etched on his expression. When the younger didn’t speak up again, he screamed, “STOP LYING TO ME!” 

“Ten, stop-” Kun warned, trying to calm him down but before he could even finish his sentence, Renjun stood up, “I’M NOT LYING! H-he drowned himself, hyung! AND WE WEREN’T THERE. _W-we weren’t there._ ” his voice cracked, on the verge of turning hysterical. 

Kun couldn’t take it any longer, couldn’t stand seeing Renjun breaking down in front of them, the overwhelming need of having to protect and cradle him in his arms outweighing the grief he’d been feeling. He scooped the boy in his arms as he kept murmuring apologies over and over. “I’m sorry, it’s our fault, we should’ve been there, I should’ve saved him. We didn’t know, I’m sorry, _ge_ , I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Ten hyung. Please forgive me.”

He gingerly brushed the younger’s hair soothingly, ”Stop, it isn’t your fault, Injun. _Never_ think that it’s your fault. Do you think Jisung would want you to blame yourself?” 

That stopped Renjun, silence enveloping them where only quiet sniffles could be heard coming not only from the latter, but also from the rest— Sicheng, Yukhei, Yangyang, Xiaojun, Hendery.

And finally, Ten, who painstakingly dropped to the floor with a thud, a sharp and hoarse cry issuing from his mouth as his arm snapped backward, hand connecting with the wall loudly. 

They were all sharing his pain, in different states of action but the distraught on each of their faces was clear as day. 

Kun’s mouth tightened, closing his eyes, while he could admit that he was never as close with Jisung as he was with Renjun and Chenle, it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt any less. He was rarely able to see the youngest, but Jisung was one of the brightest and happiest kids he’s ever met, despite being shy. _How could this happen?_

They were a family, and families are supposed to look out for each other. 

How did anyone not see this? How could they have not noticed it until it was too late? 

Sicheng seemingly finally regained his voice, asking the younger softly, “Injunnie, what do you mean by bruises and scars?” 

That seemed to startle Renjun into reality and his lips wobbled, taking a deep breath, “It’s really, really bad, hyung.” 

The knot of terror twisting in his gut seemed to multiply as Renjun went over the past events, explaining as much as he could; what he thought might have happened, what he heard from the paramedics as the expressions in Lucas and Ten’s faces darkened increasingly, jaw set with their fists clenched while Sicheng stood frozen. 

Everybody felt the heaviness in their chests as Renjun broke down in front of them— because no amount of energy could have prepared them for this. 

Their whole belief system shattered as turmoil and confusion reigned in their heads. 

How drastic must have been Jisung’s change in behavior, which everyone dismissed for his growing up? How could 127 not notice this? 

Kun could not help but wonder whether any of them could have made a difference when they don’t even know who _hurt_ Jisung, that their anger is for naught because _that_ person might still be around without them knowing? Maybe they could’ve helped prevent the actions that got Jisung stuck unconscious in a hospital bed.

There is a hurricane whirling beneath their skins, itching and scratching within their minds to be let out, to create havoc and find the person who had hurt him, make him _pay_ and _hurt_ a thousand times more that he did to their maknae. 

Kun knew Ten and Lucas would not hold back, their murderous gazes were proof of that. While Kun, Sicheng, Xiaojun, Hendery, and Yangyang have never had the chance to become close with Jisung— Ten and Lucas did. 

He knew how precious Jisung is to Ten, who stayed in the Dream’s dorms in the past and who he lovingly calls as one of the best dancers, and he was also aware of how extremely protective Lucas could be. 

As they left the practice room with Sicheng and Xiaojun supporting Renjun in tow (and onto the parking area where their car was situated), Kun couldn’t help but think—

If this was their reaction, he cannot even comprehend how the 127 members would react. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for the long wait. To all those who left kudos and comments, thank you so much! I didn't realize that a lot of people would actually read this! This chapter exists because of you guys, thank you so much. I'm actually in the midst of writing a Jaemin whump fic as well, so that explains the slow updates and bouts of writer's block getting to me, although self-projecting helps lol. 
> 
> Anyways, if there are medical inaccuracies, I apologize in advance! I'll try to release the next chapter a bit quicker but I can't make any promises! (Just note that NCT 127 will finally show up and the topic of Jisung being mistreated by Joonhyuk will be brought up,, angst time.) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into both sides of the boys, those in Korea, and 127 in America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for Sensitive Content such as mentions of suicide/abuse.

Jeno felt heavy, sitting on an uncomfortable and cold plastic chair that was smaller than him as his leg trembled nervously, one hand holding Jaemin tightly and the other doodling patterns on his thigh. His skin was crawling with goosebumps, the silence weighing in on him as he breathed out harshly, hiccuping slightly in his desperation. But he wasn’t sobbing, all the tears had run out and left him feeling like he was suspended on air. 

Jeno has always been hypervigilant when it came to their group. Since Mark graduated from the group, he unceremoniously became their unofficial leader for official schedules, because Donghyuck and Jaemin could get into more trouble in a single morning than he thought possible, and when they decided to let all their awkwardness for each other go, it was an absolute nightmare when they combined forces, it didn’t help with the fact that they were uncannily similar was terrifying with each other.

Despite his vigilance however, Renjun has always been the one to corral Donghyuck and Jaemin, and reprimand the maknaes when they start becoming, more or less, _chaotic._ He was the immovable object between the two unstoppable entities. And in turn, Jaemin was the one who led the household (obviously as he was the one who knew how to cook among all of them). But Jeno always noticed when one of them was sick, upset, or not feeling well, not that he was good at comforting, that was more of Jaemin’s thing. 

Nonetheless, he wondered how it had come to this. 

He can’t help but think about what went wrong— how they had never noticed Jisung’s bruises when they lived under the same dorm, the doctor’s words floating in his head mindlessly as the abyss swallowed him, a darkness created from his undeniable guilt eating at him. 

He’s not entirely sure how he, or any of them, had missed Jisung’s actions. He was adamant in noticing when the maknae was coming out with them less, and they should have seen it coming. 

Jeno absolutely hates that he didn’t.

A logical part of him _knew_ all of them weren’t to blame for what happened, but it still _stung_. He felt no relief as he watched Chenle and Jisung’s body disappear behind the doors of the emergency room, only remorse. The void inside his chest felt worse than the pain, because it was emptiness creeping in his veins and whispering words that condemned them for not saving him, before it was too late.

It was the hole that Jisung left behind. 

A hole that he’d managed to hide from himself, but now there was nothing to hide it from anymore, the bitter taste on his tongue and clawing heat from his heart that begged for revenge expanding. And he could feel it. The ache, the cold. Like the warmth that had been forcefully removed from him and into that vast hollow at the centre of his being. 

And he tried, wished, prayed to _feel_ something other than the nihility and tenebrosity building inside of him. Anything. Anything other than the dim anger that was _festering_. 

But his call was not answered. 

And he couldn’t even get mad about that. Because he deserves it, deserves all the malicious whisperings in his head echoing over and over again because he left Jisung to be consumed by it… so it only seemed right that he was being slowly eaten by it too. 

He supposes he was in a better condition than Jaemin, whose body remained in a catatonic-like state. He knew it was his form of coping with not only Jisung’s _attempted suicide_ but for the sentences the doctor said. Yet, it scared Jeno, to see his best friend this way, to face trauma at the point he’d turned mute, because it was better to see him break down loudly like Chenle than become an empty and broken shell of himself.

There was no way to know what Jisung thought. They can all tune into him at times, most especially Chenle who Jeno considers as the youngest’s soulmate, or more commonly get caught up in his enthusiasm for performing, but that was it. Jeno’s been with Jisung for years, he’d grown up with him, he knows his tells. This didn’t have any of those tells, nothing more obvious than it being Jisung’s continued downward spiral they’ve never seen.

Were they that oblivious to have never seen the flinches and phony smiles or was Jisung that good of an actor to leave them blind from his _hurt_ and the abuse he was facing?

_“Has he ever shown signs of depression?”_

_“Does he have any past troubles with depression or opening up?”_

_“Did he ever act differently than usual? Or did he start distancing himself from people?”_

_“Has he ever exhibited signs of suicidal behavior in the past? Has he ever attempted suicide or self-harmed before?”_

_“How are things at home? Or during practice? How about his stress levels?”_

_“Does he have any problems with anyone?”_

_“Has he ever been hit or shown signs of experiencing domestic abuse?”_

It felt too much like a slap for him to be entirely comfortable in admitting that Jisung drowned himself, and that he was probably abused for _months_ without them knowing, but he wants to _check_ . Make sure it was all just a misunderstanding, but the twist in his gut wants him to know that it’s _real_. They all just wanted the blissful ignorance of thinking that nothing would happen to Jisung because it was just preposterous and absurd. 

If ignorance is bliss, then why did nobody ever tell that it would _hurt_ like this?

* * *

Renjun is cold.

He shouldn’t be, sitting in the back of WayV’s car in between Sicheng and Lucas made a good source of a body heater. Ten is up front with Kun, murmuring to themselves quietly as if to prevent him from overhearing. They’re all traumatized, for all that they tried to wave it away and spent the gruesome minutes going to the hospital chatting about everything except the fucking bombshell he dropped at their feet.

Renjun is cold.

He shivers, involuntarily, and immediately Sicheng and Lucas huddle closer. Lucas felt like a furnace, his gigantic frame offering warmth to the smaller boy. Sicheng, meanwhile, was ice-cold, nonetheless, he reaches behind Renjun and rubs small circles on his back. It’s a furtive little motion, yet he can’t rest easy until he knows Jisung is fine.

Renjun wasn’t one for pure speculation without evidence, but he’s more inclined to believe his gut which is typically correct. It’s the thought he’s had since he had seen Jisung’s marred skin and the kind of cold he’s been feeling is not the type you’d expect from the unseasonably cool midnight. 

It’s the kind of numbness that comes from shock, the kind that made his stomach heave and legs shake. In those first seconds of seeing Jisung, he’d felt cold all the way to the pit of his stomach. Now, the ache has spread to the very marrow of his bones. 

Even as the car pulled up around the back of the hospital— to give them privacy and a semblance of space from people who might spot them upfront—, Renjun was still freezing. He wonders when the shock will wear off, _if_ it will ever wear off as he and the members of WayV walk towards the intimidating doors of the emergency room, Xiaojun staying behind to contact one of their managers and inform them of what has happened. 

Renjun notices Jaemin right away. There’s a second of blinding relief because he was _here_ but then Renjun gets a better look at him and that relief flips into horror— his face is paper white, eyes glazed and tears threatening to spill from them. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he also sees Jeno, concern buried under the guise of a monotonous expression, but Renjun knows him better than anyone around them and so he watches him. There’s a tenseness in Jeno’s shoulder that’s never been there, almost defeated. His tells were too glaringly palpable for Renjun to ignore, tremor in his hands and a bounce in his leg when Jeno inevitably spotted their forms. Renjun knows he’s hiding something, and it’s an idea that terrifies him.

Because he _knows_.

“Ten hyung.” Jeno stands up to speak, his usually bright orbs glassy and voice quieter than what Renjun was used to. It’s the way he always looked when he’s miserable. It’s the same expression he had in their dorms when the ambulance arrived to take Jisung and Chenle to the hospital. 

They don’t spend time on pleasantries, because who _would_ in the nature of their current situation? It was a ridiculous notion. Renjun immediately sinks into an armchair besides Jaemin and clutches the latter’s hand gently, feeling a nanosecond of alleviation when the younger clasped his hand back. Yangyang sits in the opposite direction with Kun pacing back and forth.

“Has the doctor said anything yet?” Kun’s question is pointed, gentle and soft but affected the younger all the same, nearly breathless as he replied.

“It’s… I don’t know how to explain this, _hyung._ ”

They all listen to Jeno’s words. They’re everything they were hoping not to hear, but there’s a genuine tiredness to them that felt like a punch to their stomach. His speaking voice is raspy and Ten’s almost afraid to ask what he’s done to it, he _knows_ the reality was hitting them the second he sees the dancer, who is so full of life and passion and near shade on the chair. 

He doesn’t want to let his mind jump to conclusions but his heart twists in a hard vice-like grip. It’s not hard to tell that Jeno was exhausted, none of his natural exuberance or eyesmiles present. And Ten wants nothing more but to take him in his arms and hold him and tell him that everything will be okay. But he doesn’t, not when the whole story still hasn’t sunk into him yet and he was also a mess. 

A little, almost wicked-sounding thought enters his mind and he has to physically resist the urge to vomit after reminiscing about what happened a few months ago. 

_  
Don’t you remember the time Jisung panicked when he saw you a few months ago?_

Oh my god. Oh my god. How could he have forgotten? 

How could he have forgotten that painstakingly heartbroken and hysterical breakdown Jisung had in front of him that appeared in his nightmares countlessly for months with no end? How was it possible that he completely disregarded it the second he saw Jisung acting normally and bubbly after that? How was he so stupid? 

And. 

What. Did. Happen. Next. Again?

Oh.   
  


_Oh._

An insurmountable rush of anger flows through him, unknowing of the surprised glances and worried shouts he earned when he suddenly keeled over, shaking. Kun immediately rushes forward, trying to keep him upright, unaware that he fell down the floor not because of exhaustion or worry, but because of the seething fury that was bubbling under his skin. 

That day when Jisung had a panic attack, the way he looked so afraid, as if someone was going to hit him for taking a nap. Him, Ten, trying to convince and negotiate with Jisung until he was almost about to open up, until another person entered the room and ordered him to leave. The unmistakable dread yet acceptance he saw in Jisung’s face a second before his expression totally shut down. 

Everything was starting to clear up now, but it was too late. The regret of not being able to do something, of not telling _anyone_ finally enters his mind and yet he no longer has the strength to sob. Tears, mixed with resentment and suffering, carve a path down his already streaked cheeks. 

Ten wasn’t a violent person of any kind. Nor was he someone who jumped to conclusions easily. He wanted to have all the facts laid out before him before he did something he couldn’t take back, however, when the proof was right in front of his eyes, the person he considered his sibling possibly dying, how could he not? 

The only thing Ten can think about, the only possible thing that could have happened that resorted to his _brother_ succeeding in hurting himself and ended up in a room while doctors asked his younger members (the members he was supposed to be protecting and taking care of) if he had a history with abuse and depression, the only _thing_ that mattered. 

The only thought that stayed in his mind as Xuxi and Sicheng helped him stand up. 

If Jisung never wakes up because of _Joonhyuk_ , he may have to kill him. 

* * *

  
Excitement and exhaustion filled him at the same time. He felt ecstatic, as if he was on top of the world, ignoring the fact that he was breathing heavily and sweat dripped down constantly due to dancing their extremely difficult choreographies for hours straight. None of those mattered as long as they made their fans happy. 

Haechan felt incredible. It was almost night from where they were in America, having just finished interviews one after another and performing in front of Americans on stage. Can you imagine? _America_. Not once did he expect in his entire life that they would be able to complete tours all over the United States. He hoped for it, prayed for it even, and to see his dream happening right before his eyes? It was unbelievable. 

He only wished the rest of the Dream members were with him. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves all members equally, with an exception to those he considered his best friends. It was only during times like these that he wanted all of them to experience the same thing too, before the inevitable _graduation_ happens. The thought of it just makes him want to puke everything he had eaten and scowl. He always hated that notion, he thought it was ridiculous of SM to separate them not only because of his personal opinion, but because he had spent some time reading fans’ comments regarding their situation and it was stupid knowing SM would have probably seen those yet paid no attention. 

It was during times like these that the longing to see and hang out with his Dream members were prominent, he _really_ , _really_ couldn’t wait to go back home and hug his members to death. The idea of hanging out with them after this whole American tour made him even happier and more anticipating. Even though he was missing the Dream member, particularly Jisung even more since he couldn’t remember the last time they hung out together, he knew they would be fine. 

They would be fine. He would treat Jisung to as much food as he wanted. Knowing that kid’s stomach, his wallet would be crying, and further knowing the other members, they would surely complain and then join them, but he loved that boy so much. He doesn’t care if he had to break the bank for a day to do it.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the staff member’s call for his name and Haechan looked up, his brown eyes instinctively following the sign the employee was holding and he trudged in, jokingly grimacing at the teasing look Mark sent towards his way, fully knowing what was on his mind. 

How unfair it was. How can Mark, of all people, instantly recognize his expressions and read his thoughts? He didn’t despise it, it was just annoying to get caught in the act. 

_He’s your best friend, dummy_. A voice inside of Donghyuck’s brain reminded him and he huffed. _Of course, I know that, would honestly rather have any other Dream member, aka Jisung here for the meantime though. Although him and Mark are just the same, awkward yet secretly evil._

Unbeknownst to Haechan and the rest of the 127 members however, as they entered the room for another round of interviews, worried glances passed along the staff members as they all opened their phones to texts, simultaneously announcing a cryptic message from one of the head directors of SM, telling the managers to cancel any plans for later that day and head back to the hotel so that they could discuss something with 127 before the unbearable news reach them. 

  
_What was happening?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly apologize for the months hiatus, I have no other excuse except that I've almost practically given up this fic despite my promises of updating it constantly. Life got in the way, the pandemic affected me more than I've expected it to be, and if I was being honest, I was in a really bad writer's block since March. I'm not going to lie, I don't have a next chapter ready, and I despise doing authors' notes chapters because I know it only brings a reader's hope expectant only to bring it back down. I don't know when the next chapter will be posted. Although I'm still fully a Dream stan, starting this fic took ages and it might take some time before I update again unless you guys are willing to receive shorter chapters because I have classes now too, unfortunately. On the good side however, if anyone is willing to give ideas and beta this out for me, I might be able to produce more chapters easily and not let you guys wait for so long. I'm really sorry, I can't make any promises now at the moment, but I do hope everyone enjoys this rushed chapter I've decided to finally publish today. Unbetaed as usual. I'll try to continue and finish this, but it will take time.

**Author's Note:**

> So. You’ve made it this far. I’m so sorry in advance, because like I’ve mentioned, this is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better. But don’t worry, I won’t leave you guys hanging for too long! 
> 
> Again, this is a work of fiction and doesn’t reflect my stance on Jisung, and before you guys get mad at me for the lack of members in this part, don’t fret. This first chapter is ALL in Jisung’s point of view because I wanted to describe how he feels beforehand. The next few chapters will all surround around the other members and their reactions. Aaand that will be a long rollercoaster of emotions, so I suggest tissues...
> 
> Anyways, please leave some comments and kudos if you liked it! Those give me a lot of motivation. English is not my first language however so please bear with grammatical errors and typos I didn’t see. This is unbeta-ed as well because I worked on this on the course of midnights crying and projecting myself to Jaemin and Jisung.
> 
> Feel free to leave suggestions or chat with me on Twitter for ideas!


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